


Everything Will Be Okay

by carpenoctem



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sibling Incest, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:10:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/452730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carpenoctem/pseuds/carpenoctem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I love you," Sam is kneeling next to his brother's bed, hands spread wide on the mattress. He's fifteen, should be asleep because he has school in four hours, but he's too distracted. Dean's breathing is keeping him awake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everything Will Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Random something for [Kate](http://eightyeightkate.tumblr.com), because I love her and she loves wincest.
> 
> I have no beta, so all mistakes are mine.

"I love you," Sam is kneeling next to his brother's bed, hands spread wide on the mattress. He's fifteen, should be asleep because he has school in four hours, but he's too distracted. Dean's breathing is keeping him awake. So he watches his brother sleep, memorizing details like the map of Dean's freckles across his face, the length of his eyelashes, and the slight curve in his nose from when he broke it two years ago. "I love you."

As soon as the confession leaves his mouth, Dean shifts, and Sam's heart leaps into his throat, pulsing in his fingertips, a staccato drumbeat through his veins. Dean sleeps on, but the threat of being caught keeps Sam on his toes, even as he reaches out and places his hand over where he's certain Dean's heart lay. He's in love with him, ass over elbow in a way that terrifies him, more than the monsters and the demons and the constant threat of death. There's no denying it's wrong, not when he could feel it in his gut from the moment he realized it, but he's past caring. Dean makes spending nights in motels and days in the Impala feel like home.

Sam knows he'll never tell him, not when he's awake and can hear him, and hate him, and never want to speak to him again. No, better to save those words for the middle of the night, when there's no one else around to hear him and Dean is lost in his dreams. That way, he doesn't have to risk everything just to say it out loud.

Dean rolls slightly, and Sam jerks back in an excellent imitation of an electrocution. The absolute last thing he needs right now is to be caught red-handed, stroking his hand across his older brother's chest and muttering confessions to the midnight air. He squeezes his eyes shut and internally begs for safety when he hears Dean shift again; if he can't see it happening, he can pretend that it's not real and that it's just a frightfully vivid dream. It seems like ages before he dares himself to look, and he immediately wants to melt into the floor and die when he does.

Dean's propped himself up in bed, watching Sam's impression of stone with an unreadable look on his face. Sam opens his mouth to speak, but every single word in his burgeoning vocabulary suddenly stops making sense, and he freezes. The light from the window isn't enough to read by, but it's more than sufficient for Dean to see Sam's expression of sheer panic. He's been caught, and he can't even pretend that he was in the process of playing a prank. His cheeks are flamed red, hot to the touch, and the only thing Sam can do is cross his fingers and hope that Dean can't tell.

As the silence stretches, Sam gets twitchier and increasingly nervous. Had Dean heard any of that? Felt the caresses? The panic is still clear as day on Sam's face despite his best efforts to appear cool and aloof, mouth gaping wide and useless. Dozens of ideas run through his head, like locking himself in the bathroom or jumping out the window and running until his legs give out, but his limbs are locked and Dean _still hasn't reacted_. Before Sam even realizes what a bad sign that is, Dean reaches out and places his palm against Sam's cheek, lips turned up at the corners almost imperceptibly. 

Time takes forever to get where it's going, everything lagging like witnessing a crash, but Sam still can't manage to do anything but close his mouth and swallow hard, his brother's hand cool against his face. After an eternity of nothing that translates to a handful of seconds in real time, Dean shifts forward and presses his mouth to Sam's. Sam's brain short-circuits, kiss waxing tender against his lips, and he makes a small noise in the back of his throat and kisses back. Dean pulls him in closer, cupping his face with both hands and turning his head so Sam's nose slots perfectly against his cheek. Sam makes that noise again, hands grappling for the sheets and Dean's shirt in a desperate attempt to ground himself.

The whole thing is surreal, made even more so when Dean opens his mouth and skirts his tongue across Sam's bottom lip. When Sam groans softly, Dean strokes his thumb across Sam's cheekbone, and the whole kiss changes into something unspoken. Instead of _what's wrong with you, you sick bastard_ , Sam feels Dean tell him _it's okay, this isn't as wrong as you think it is._  Instead of _get the fuck out of here and never come back_ , Sam hears _don't worry, don't panic, don't run away._ It's not _I hate you_ , no. Dean's saying _I love you_  the only way he can. Sam's heart gives a hopeful, painful little lurch, and he kisses back just as hard, grabbing onto his big brother and holding tight.

When Dean finally moves to pull away - and he _is_  the one to pull away, it's slowly, with lingering little pecks and hands that refuse to let go. There's a beat of silence where they both revel in the moment, and Dean lets a small, breathy laugh break the silence, "Now shut up, and go to sleep."

The gobsmacked look Sam knows he's wearing makes Dean break out in a giant grin, and Sam knows without a doubt that everything will be okay. No matter what happens, as long as they have each other, _everything will be okay._


End file.
